


The Honeymoon Phase

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All Human!AU, Bottom!Stiles, Established Relationship, Fingering, M/M, PDA, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sterek on their honeymoon, getting caught, married!sterek, semi-pubic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek just got married and are a little too lovely-dovey for other people at the airport. So they decide to find a utility closet to have some private time. At least, as private as they can get in an airport, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honeymoon Phase

Stiles sighs as he wraps his arms around Derek from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder. He catches a glance or two of people staring, but they’re smiling in their direction, so Stiles feels content and happy as he and his husband - yeah, husband. Stiles is married. Him. Married. To Derek Hale. He still can’t believe it - wait in the long line to get food. Luckily their flight isn’t for another two hours, and they had plenty of time to wait and wait and wait to be able to get some food.

“Love you,” Stiles murmurs into Derek’s ear, just cause. He just got married the night before, they’re quite literally in the honeymoon phase, and he’s feeling giddy and happy and more in love with Derek than ever before. 

He sees Derek smile out of the corner of his eye, and smiles against Derek’s shoulder when Derek rests his hands over Stiles’ around his waist. “Mm, love you, too,” Derek says quietly, turning his head the side in order to steal a quick kiss. 

Which ends up being…not so quick. It’s at a slightly awkward angle, but Stiles still gets lost in it, in the slick slide of their lips against each other, of the feeling of utter contentment mixed with rising arousal. It’s easy to get lost in Derek, always has been, and getting married hasn’t changed that one bit. Stiles ends up lifting his left hand to cradle Derek’s cheek, even as the kiss gets dirtier, wetter, and close to full on make out territory, in the middle of a line at the airport, with hungry people in front and behind them. But Stiles can’t muster up the energy to think about them right now. 

And yeah, maybe Stiles feels a little giddy that anyone looking would be able to clearly see his wedding ring. He’s on a high, what can he say?

“Hey assholes, why don’ cha get a fucking room?” Someone says loudly behind them, and they pull apart with an audible smack, feeling disoriented as they turn toward the voice. 

A tall, burly man with a beard is standing behind them, fuming. Stiles steps an inch away from Derek. 

“Are you gonna fucking move forward or fuck right here in line and hold up the rest of us, huh?” The guy says, and some people are murmuring to each other behind the guy in line, not looking away from Stiles and Derek. 

Stiles looks in front of him and see that the line has moved forward considerably in front of them, and blushes.

“Sorry, man, our bad.”

Derek says nothing, just takes Stiles’ hand and moves them forward to close the gap, and they ignore the annoyed grumbling of the man behind them, and Stiles fidgets when they come to a stop. He’s half hard, and he had just been kissing his husband. And Derek’s touch and flush on his cheeks wasn’t helping. Stiles also made the mistake of look down towards his crotch as seeing a noticeable bulge in Derek’s jeans as well. 

It was crazy. They had fucked all night last night, had had to control themselves that morning and tear away from each other (after another round) to get ready and head to the airport and now Stiles was ready to go again. Yeah, he was definitely high on the Derek love. 

“The what?” Derek says beside him, and Stiles jumps, blinking quickly as he looks up at his husband. 

“Did I say that out loud?” Stiles whispers, biting his lip, and Derek lifts an eyebrow as if to say ‘what do you think?’ “Oh, I was just…ya know,” Stiles clears his throat. “Thinking…about you." 

"And the Derek love?” Derek smirks, and Stiles scowls.

“Shut up, asshole,” Stiles hits Derek lightly on the arm. “You got me all hot and bothered and now I can’t stop thinking about last night, and this morning…and all times, really,” Stiles says, looking up as he recalls this morning when Derek had fucked him. Then the night before when he had fucked Derek nice and slow, and the time before that when Derek had-

“Stiles, stop thinking about it!” Derek hisses, and Stiles ignores the slightly annoyed/grossed out huff of the man behind them and leans into Derek’s side, threading his and Derek’s fingers together and squeezes as they inch forward in line. 

“I can’t help it,” Stiles bites his lip, leaning in close to his husband. That’s right, Derek Hale was all his to kiss, to fuck, to fight with, to hug, to hold, to love, to make love with, forever. And thinking gooey things should not be getting him turned on, but it was. It so was. Leaning forward, Stiles whispers, “I really want you to eat me out right now,” into Derek’s ear, and Derek has to stifle a moan, and he shudders, closing his eyes.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, and Stiles grins when he looks down and sees that Derek’s bulge got bigger. 

“Come on,” Stiles whispers, lips still at Derek’s ear, skin hot, pulse quickening, hard as fuck in his pants and ready to go, “Lets get some food later.”

“Stiles, it’s only been two hours since we last-”

“I don’t care,” and Stiles takes Derek’s earlobe between his teeth, licks it, then sucks on it. Derek can’t hold in the quiet moan, then, and he wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist, squeezing his hip. “I want you, now." 

And Derek’s resistance crumbles when Stiles gives his clothed cock a quick squeeze, hand there and gone in a flash. 

"Fuck, yeah, let’s go,” Derek says quickly, and Stiles grins as they stumble out of the line, both hard as a rock. 

“Honeymooners, most likely,” Stiles hears someone behind them say, and Stiles grins, happy, even as he hears the guy that had been behind them say “thank god” under his breath. 

Eh, Stiles would probably be annoyed if he wasn’t one half of the couple as well, so he can’t really fault the guy on that. 

=*=

They find a janitor supply closet, eventually, and Stiles eagerly turns to face the wall as Derek closes the door, shrouding them in darkness. Derek finds Stiles and presses all along Stiles’ backside, kissing Stiles’ neck, making Stiles moan. 

“Com'on Derek,” Stiles garbles out quickly, words stringing together. “Eat my ass." 

Derek groans, and he gives Stiles’ neck a sharp nip that makes Stiles gasp and clench his hands against the wall. 

"That’s what you want?” Derek breathes into Stiles’ ear, and Stiles shivers as Derek’s breath washes over it. 

“Yeah, yeah, then I want you to fuck me again like you did this morning. It was so good,” Stiles whimpers, thrusting against the wall and back into Derek’s crotch. 

“Fuck,” Derek swears, tone sharp. “D-do we have any condoms left?”

“Yeah, I bought some earlier,” Stiles says frantically, reaching down and undoing his pants, wanting to get the show on the road. “Lube, too." 

"They had those things at the airport?” Derek stops from where he had been in the middle of crouching down onto his knees and Stiles snorts, looking over his shoulder down at his husband, even though he couldn’t see his face properly.

“I know, right? Who knew." 

"Huh, guess we got lucky,” Derek grins, and finishes crouching down into a kneeling position.

“Oh, we’re about to get lucky all right,” Stiles mutters, blindingly reaching for Derek’s hand and bringing it around to grasp his hard cock through his boxers. 

Derek laughs quietly, and then he he pulls his hands away, ignoring Stiles’ whine at the loss and pulling his pants and boxers down, spreading his cheeks, and starting out by kissing each one, and Stiles’ breathing goes uneven. 

“Come on, Derek. Rim me. I need your tongue in my asshole,” Stiles practically begs, and Derek moans, leaning forward and licking from the bottom of Stiles’ ass, right over his hole and all the way to the top. Stiles gasps, shaking where he stands. “Yeah, more, Derek. Please!" 

And then Derek dives right in, licking around Stiles’ hole, over and over again, before plunging right in, and Stiles moans loudly, pushing his ass back against Derek’s face, panting and gasping intermittently, feeling flushed and hot, sweaty as he grinds back on Derek’s face and Derek’s tongue goes deeper, all the more deeper. Stiles can feel Derek’s tongue inside him, and it causes him to leak pre-come, but Stiles resists the urge to jack himself as well, wanting to be able to last when Derek gets his cock inside him. 

“Fuck Derek, s’good. Yer tongue is magic inside my ass, fuck me with it hard. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Stiles babbles, worked up, almost incoherent, and he moans loudly when Derek adds a finger alongside his tongue. “Fuck!”

Stiles can feel the vibrations when Derek moans, feels Derek’s tongue and finger go in and out, in and out, and it’s driving him crazy. His breathing becomes ragged, short and clipped, and he has to gulp several times to breath properly.

Derek goes on for so long - adding a second finger at one point - that Stiles is surprised he hasn’t come yet. Derek was the only one that could reduce him to a shaking, sweating, swearing, whimpering mess. 

His fingers were scratching at the wall, his back was arched even as he pushed his ass back, back so that Derek’s tongue and fingers could go all the more deeper. 

“Okay, Derek, ya gotta fuck me,” Stiles yells, feeling sensitive and strung out, wanting to pull away because it was almost too much at the same time he wants to move closer to that wonderful mouth and feel that pleasure forever. “Put you cock in me and fuck me hard, please!” Stiles shouts, and he’s too far gone to care if that was too loud, that someone walking by might have heard. 

Derek’s tongue and fingers are gone in an instant, and then Stiles feels Derek along his back, feels, hears his whisper, “Okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, love.” And Stiles melts back into Derek, his Derek, the love of his life, shaky and strung out. 

And then Derek pulls away, gently, and Stiles sags against the wall, barely able to hold himself up. 

And then Derek’s back, having gone to the bags they had haphazardly thrown aside when they entered the closet, and Stiles can hear Derek undoing his pants, hear him shoving them down his legs, and then the crinkle of the condom, the cap of the lube being opened. 

Stiles hears Derek slicking himself up, and bites his lip through a whimper at the image, at the sound Derek’s hand makes on his dick, and then he hears the condom being opened, and his eyes fly open. 

“Lemme do it. I wanna put the condom on,” Stiles says, turning around and reaching for Derek. 

“Okay, yeah,” Derek agrees, moving closer, and Stiles takes the condom out of Derek’s hand, feels a zing of pleasure as his hand brushes Derek’s, and the tips of their fingers catch, giving an intimacy to the moment. Their breathing is hard in the dark supply closet, and Stiles licks his lips as he puts the condom on Derek, getting his hand on his cock and wanting that in him now. 

“Fuck me,” Stiles says, and turns back around, hands braced against the wall, waiting, and Stiles gasps when a finger enters him, this time lubed up. Derek always, always preps him - and Stiles always does it vice vera, too - no matter what, no matter if he fucked him a couple hours previously and he’s still a little loose and wet. He always makes sure to finger him a little bit, just to make sure he’s truly loose and wet and ready to take his cock. 

It always just makes Stiles love him all the more. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Stiles gasps after Derek gets three fingers in him and hits his prostate. Stiles has to take hold of the base of his cock to keep himself from coming right then and there. “Fuck me, Mr. Stilinski-Hale.”

Derek pulls his fingers out and Stiles sucks in a breath when he feels him line up, the tip of his cock against his entrance. Then Derek pauses, leaning forward and kissing his way up Stiles’ neck to his jaw, and then licking, causing Stiles to shudder, head tilted back against Derek’s shoulder in pleasure. “I’d be happy to, Mr. Stilinski-Hale,” Derek responds, and they both pause, taking a moment to grin, and Stiles thinks for a moment of Derek standing across from him, looking absolutely drop dead gorgeous in a tux, and telling Stiles that he promised to love him till death do they part, and that he can’t wait to start to the rest of his life with Stiles, today, and the kiss that came after, and Derek surprising Stiles into a dip during the kiss, and making him smile into the kiss as the wedding guests clapped and cheered.

Sighing happily, Stiles turns and kisses Derek on the cheek. “Love you, husband.” 

“You too, husband,” Derek murmurs back, and then the soft, tender moment is over when Derek slips into him in one big, hard thrust, burying himself inside Stiles. 

“Ah!” Stiles gasps, and Derek grunts, tucking his head into Stiles’ shoulder. 

“You good?” Derek says after a few moments of silence and stillness.

Stiles nods. “I’m good.” 

It’s all over from there. 

Derek is hard, rough, pushes Stiles’ legs farther apart so he can thrust in deeper, harder, hands on Stiles’ hips, holding him with a bruising force.

Stiles loves every minute of it, and he shouts for Derek to go harder, faster, don’t stop. 

And Derek doesn’t. He’s relentless, unforgiving, and Stiles’ eyes are closed, head tilted back in ecstasy as Derek hits the right spot over and over again. 

And Derek, amazing man that he is, brings the tenderness into it when he reaches up with his hands and laces his fingers with Stiles’, wedding bands knocking against each other. 

Stiles is grinning, panting for breath as he gets the living daylights fucked out of him by his wonderful, sexy, adorable husband. Who was mind blowing in the sack. Which Stiles was heavily focused on at the moment. 

“I’m gonna come, fuck I’m-I’m gonna-“ Stiles whimpers, face pressed against the cool wall at this point, gasping, sweating, knees shaking.

“Yeah, fuck, come for me, babe,” Derek says, loudly, and Derek speeds up his thrusts to a point where there is no finesse anymore, just wild, uncoordinated thrusts, in and out, in and out, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist as he pistons in and out of him, and Stiles is right there, right on the edge, and all Derek has to do is take him in his hand and give him one stroke and then Stiles is coming, and he’s too far gone to care that his come lands on the wall, and that he comes particularly hard this time so that there is more than usual. 

Stiles…whites out for a moment, probably, definitely, maybe. Yeah, he definitely does. 

Because when he comes to, Derek is slumped against him, pressing him to the wall - and the only thing holding him up at this point - heart beating wildly against Stiles’ back, breathing labored, limbs shaking just as much as Stiles’ are. Stiles had missed Derek coming, he’d been so far out of it with pleasure. Fuck. 

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ shoulders from behind, holding him close, and Stiles tries to even out his breathing as he snuggles back into Derek, feeling safe and warm and loved. 

“We should probably…” Stiles trails off, eyes closed, head leaning against the wall. He can’t even muster up enough energy to finish his sentence, and Derek huffs a weak laugh against his shoulder. 

“Yeah.”

They don’t move. Can’t move. 

Which, of course, ends up costing them. Big time.

Because they’re both naked from the waist down, Derek’s still inside him, and they’re so sweaty that if they stay there any longer Stiles is gonna start to get a little uncomfortable soon.

But before they can actually move, the door bursts open, and light floods into the closet, and Stiles and Derek whip their heads around, eyes wide. 

And there stands a security guard, and behind him stands and old lady, who gasps out a “oh my goodness!” when she sees them and turns around. 

The security guard purses his lips, takes in their position, and shakes his head, and a few people walking by notice, stop to stand there and gape. 

“Fuck,” Stiles mutters, turning his face away and wincing.

“Sirs, you two will want to get uh…cleaned up and come with me. Now.” 

“Right, right, we’ll be right out,” Derek clears his throat, and the security guard does not look happy as he closes the door to afford them the privacy for Derek to pull out of Stiles, holy fucking god and fix their clothes and look semi-decent. 

“Fuck, shit, motherfuck,” Stiles curses as he pulls up his pants, and Derek is cursing as well, and they they get themselves in order, and burst out of the closet, the security guard standing there, waiting for them. As well as a small crowd, and they applaud when they both come out, and Stiles and Derek blush.

A few people even wolf whistle, and Stiles buries his head against Derek’s shoulder. 

The security guard, unamused, motions for them to follow him, and picking up their bags, they follow to the sound of the crowd still cheering them on, and Stiles hears one of the girls yell, “Yeah, you get that sweet piece of ass, honey!” 

Stiles can’t help but laugh into Derek’s shoulder, and feels Derek’s shoulders shake with his own silent laughter. The guard looks back at them and glares. Stiles just laughs harder. 

At one point, Stiles calms down enough to lean up and whisper to Derek, “Even though we’re probably going to get into big trouble, that was totally worth it.” 

He smirks as he pulls away, and Derek sighs, trying to seem like the mature and responsible one, but Derek just ends up smiling too, “It was.”

Stiles laughs, and he laces his fingers with Derek, laying his head on his shoulder, content. 

Even being temporarily put into airport jail and missing their flight and having to pay for new tickets for the next earliest flight doesn’t dampen his mood. 

It was so worth it.


End file.
